


traffic light talk

by poisonrationalitie



Category: Counting On (TV) RPF
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Femslash February, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:47:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29220483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisonrationalitie/pseuds/poisonrationalitie
Summary: Jana & Laura help set up a wedding.
Relationships: Jana Duggar/Laura DeMaisie
Kudos: 4





	traffic light talk

**Author's Note:**

> it’s 2am. i saw that femslash february was a thing and figured i need to catch up. i hope this isn’t incomprehensible. :) 
> 
> && the prompt is ‘red’! this is for feb 1st

Red isn’t a colour Jana particularly likes for a wedding, but it isn’t hers, so she doesn’t really have a say, does she? She just diligently paints the benches, slashes sashes, runs to the florist and picks up ten crimson bouquets brimming with roses. It’s a bit tacky, really, a bit basic given that it’s a Valentine’s Day wedding, but what can you do? She’s got no right to give orders - she’s helping, not planning. Still, she scowls at the flowers in the rear-vision mirror. 

Laura’s beside her, riding shotgun, having bought into the theme entirely - a red shirt, red nails. Jana eases on the brake as they come to an intersection. 

“It’s not your wedding,” Laura reminds her, smiling in that knowing way. Jana drums her fingers on the steering wheel.

“I know. I think - the colour palette is perfectly suited to them,” she forces out. Laura laughs. Jana reaches for her coffee with her free hand, but Laura meets her halfway, seeing the need and filling it. The heat is smooth and promises stamina for another few hours. She sighs happily.

“It wouldn’t be your choice for them, I bet,” Laura says. Jana returns her coffee to the cupholder. The light stays red. Always the way when you need to get somewhere. Momma liked to say it was God’s way of teaching patience. 

“What would I choose for them, then?” Jana asks. The car in front jolts forwards in a false start. The tease of movement is worse than just staying still. 

“Rose pink, light rose pink, and a gentle green, maybe a hint of gold. You’d say it’s close enough to Spring that it’s better to pretend it’s a Spring wedding.”

“Well, it is,” Jana says, straightening. “Winter weddings are a trial. I’d want to be married in Spring.” 

“Me, too,” Laura agrees. As if either of them will marry. As if someone would come knocking for them, both older than thirty, when each day a young girl turns eighteen. The light turns green. Jana accelerates steadily, shifting gears. Laura’s hand grazes hers on the stick. Once they’re properly moving, it rests there, atop hers. Light pressure. Jana drives easily with one hand; she could drive Tonitown in her sleep. She probably has, all but, after pulling all-nighters with Josie and then packing the boys into the car to head somewhere the next morning.

“Don’t you think they’re young?” she asks, slowing at the next set of red lights. “I don’t know if I could’ve been married that young. I would’ve never got a break. I’d probably have six kids by now. At least.” Six kids would make her Anna, maybe with a Mackynzie to help, but maybe not, if she’d had all boys up front. Jana doesn’t envy her sister-in-law. Not one bit. Not ever. Jana has fed babies for as long as she can remember, until very recently, and she much prefers a paintbrush or a gardening hoe to bottles and diapers. 

“They’re very young,” Laura agrees, squeezing her hand on the stick. “Too young to drink, still. No wine for them.”

“Laura,” Jana murmurs, almost chastising. Almost, if not for the sun-kissed memory of the only time Jana has ever partaken, if not for the sweet red stain on the skirt she’d thrown in the donation bin by the Goodwill in that town they’d stayed in.

“There are some benefits to being old maids, I suppose,” Laura says, leaning back in her seat. Jana takes off again on the green. Laura lifts her hand (Jana’s feels oddly cold, at the sudden release) and fiddles with the stereo and the CDs until she’s found Jana’s favourite hymns. They sing together, lyrics spilling from their tongues without a second thought. They make it to the church and Jana parks and yet they stay in the car, singing to the last note.

“You chose well,” Jana says, twisting the keys. The car shudders to a stop. 

“I know you,” Laura shrugs, unclicking her seatbelt. “The Lord has shown me a piece of your heart.”

“So long as I haven’t given it away.”

“Are you saving it for somebody?” They hop out of the car and open the back doors, reaching in to scoop up the offensive scarlet flowers. 

“I don’t know,” Jana says, smiling a secret smile at Laura across the back seats and the bouquets. “What does my heart look like?” Laura looks as though she’s thinking hard.

“It’s red, for a start.”

Jana scowls at the bouquets. 


End file.
